The Door Into Tomorrow
by Hoshi-tachi
Summary: Slightly AU fifth year: In the Department of Mysteries, a life was lost, but not the one you think… More lies beyond the veil than Death.
1. Two to Bear My Soul Away

**Title:** The Door Into Tomorrow  
**Author:** hoshi-tachi  
**Category:** Book Crossovers (Harry Potter/Incarnations of Immortality)  
**Rating:** PG-13, for now.  
**Pairings:** Not totally decided, yet… At the moment, the most likely is Harry/Sirius.  
**Summary: **In the Department of Mysteries, a life was lost, but not the one you think… More lies behind the veil than Death…  
**Spoilers: **SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP  
**Warnings:** Um… sort-of character death. Likely profanity, just because I'm me… and violence. Eventually. Oh, right! And probably some **slash**, too.  
**Distribution:** Here (fanfiction_dot_net), and eventually my personal website. -sweatdrops- If I ever actually starting updating that thing, that is…  
**Disclaimer: **_Harry Potter_ is the product of the mind of a woman named J. K. Rowling, and the _Incarnations of Immortality_ of a man named Piers Anthony. All I did was imagine what the children would look like…  
**Author's Note:** Before anyone starts bugging me about length, this is meant to be a prologue/teaser. I wouldn't even have posted it at all, since I'm not planning on writing the rest of it for a while, except **Shino Ryu** insisted.

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_A spell hit the stone bench at Harry's heel. It crumbled away and he fell back to the step below: Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and thrust the prophecy into his pocket._

_"Come on" said Harry desperately, hauling at Neville's robes. "Just try and push with your legs"_

_He gave another stupendous heave and Neville's robes tore all along the left seam - the small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and before either of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it. It flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As both of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Harry could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could he hear. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness._

_"Harry, I'b sorry" cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder"I'b so sorry, Harry, I didn'd bean do"_

_"It doesn't matter" Harry shouted. "Just try and stand, let's get out of "_

"Dubbledore" _said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry's shoulder._

_"What"_

_"DUBBLEDORE"_

_Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Harry felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of his body - _they were saved

_Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville and Harry, who had no more thought of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realized he was there. There were yells; one of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line—_

_Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: He was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room._

_The second jet of red light hit him squarely on the chest._

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock._

_Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore turned to the dais too._

It seemed to take forever for Sirius to fall. His body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards towards the ragged veil hanging from the arch...

Afterwards, none of them could quite say just how he'd done it, how Harry had managed to cross the entire room in the time it took Sirius to begin falling. All they knew was that he'd somehow done it, another impossible feat to add to his impressive list of such feats.

Sirius was stunned as he impacted the wall beside the arch, thrust there by the force of Harry's tackle. He sank to his knees, one hand holding his chest, as his godson reeled back from the impact.

The last thing the shocked wizard saw and heard, before his vision blurred and he blacked out, were the horrified cries of Neville Longbottom and Albus Dumbledore as the Boy-Who-Lived passed beyond the veil.

* * *

Everything in italics is quoted from _Order of the Phoenix_.

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5 February 2005


	2. And a Spider Sat Down Beside Her

**Warnings and Disclaimers:** As stated previously, I don't own either of these stories. I don't own much of the dialogue in this chapter, either. But I _do_ own the background rewrite!

* * *

Zane rode away from his shell-shocked client, his mind awhirl. This was the second time he'd actively interfered with a death, changing the course of a client's life. Convincing a woman not to kill herself was one thing- while he knew she wouldn't have, considering he was there to collect her soul, it would have been perfectly understandable if she had of her own volition decided not to suicide. 

But deliberately pulling a drowning man from the middle of the ocean and setting him on dry land...

The new Death couldn't help but think that was something completely different.

Maybe it was squeamishness, maybe his conscience that led him to act so irrationally. The office of Death was one that demanded impartiality, but he couldn't seem to keep his personal hang-ups from affecting his duty. Those people had been _meant_ to die, yet... he'd saved them. He'd interfered with the natural order of things.

And something inside him knew he'd do it again, if the opportunity presented itself.

Beneath Zane, Mortis trotted diligently through the sky towards their next client, the magical horse unconcerned that his master's thoughts twisted and turned, trapped inside a maze of self-recrimination and worries. Abruptly the Incarnation shook his head, reaching for his wrist to stop the Deathwatch. "I've had enough of this for the moment," he directed down to his steed. "I want to pause and reflect. Do you have a favorite pasture where you graze? Take me there."

The horse whinnied and galloped up to a thin cloud layer. As they pierced the haze, Zane saw a green, open field stretch out before him, improbably perched on top of the cloud. "So your pasture is in the sky!" he remarked with a sense of wonder.

Mortis alighted in the meadow with barely a jolt, trotting across the grass until he reached an enormous ginkgo tree. The man dismounted rather clumsily, using the tree to catch his balance as much as he was able. "You'll be near when I need you?" he asked, the slightest bit worried at the thought he might be stuck there for eternity on the whims of a horse.

The stallion nickered assent, tossing his head, before trotting off a few feet to graze. Zane blinked as he realized the saddle and bridle were nowhere to be seen, and finally shrugged. It _was_ magic, after all…

With a sigh, he dropped to the ground next to the tree and leaned back against its trunk, looking upwards at the infinite, azure dome of the sky. "What am I doing here?" he murmured out loud to himself, thudding his head against the bark. "Why aren't I doing my job?"

There was no answer. Mortis didn't even lift his head from his grazing, and the wind made no reply as it rustled the leaves of the ginkgo. Zane sighed again, and his gaze fell on a small spider dangling from a thread in front of him.

"What am I doing wrong, Arachnae?" he asked it whimsically. "I have a good job here, fetching in the souls of the borderlines. Why am I letting them go, when I thought I wanted to act in accordance with the standards of my office?" He rubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling a wave of disillusionment wash over him. "Am I a hypocrite?"

A change came over the spider, as he watched with wide eyes. Four of its legs fused into two larger limbs, as the other four lifted up, becoming two slightly smaller extremities. Its abdomen lengthened, swelling and then slimming at the midpoint. Eight eyes merged into two, very human eyes.

In but moments, a woman knelt beside him, holding a strand of silken webs between her palms.

"Oh, we call it the delayed-reaction syndrome," she said dryly. "You can't step from ordinary life into immortality without suffering systemic dislocation. You will survive it."

"Who are you?" Zane demanded, shocked, though there was a faint tugging at his memory at the sight of her face.

"How short your memory is," she stated, a teasing note in her voice. Her appearance changed again, reforming as a younger woman.

The memory fell into place. "Fate! Am I glad to see you!"

The other Incarnation seemed pleased at that. "Well, I did bring you into this, so it may be my responsibility to tide you through the break-in period." She shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, looking intently at him. "All you have to do is accept and adapt to the new reality, and you're all right."

"But I know the new reality," he protested, shaking his head. "I know I'm supposed to take souls." Zane hesitated for a moment, then plunged onward. "But I'm not taking them! Not consistently. I talked one woman out of suicide and I actually rescued a drowning man."

Fate blinked at that, then stared at him thoughtfully. "That does complicate things…" She shook her head. "I never heard of Death helping people live. I'm not sure there's a precedent."1

Zane grimaced, leaning back against the tree again. "Wonderful… I've been carrying out this job for a single day, and I've already managed to make a mess of it."

"Not necessarily. I said there was no precedent, not that it was wrong," Fate corrected matter-of-factly. "We'll simply have to wait and see if there are any consequences."

Zane had to wet suddenly dry lips. "Do you think there will be?"

The Incarnation shrugged her shoulders. "Death is your domain. I would imagine it is within your power to choose whether or not to let a person die."

He glanced up at her, beginning to hope. "Then... it won't affect anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, hadn't you slated them to die? Severed the threads of their lives?" Zane asked, feeling his anxiety begin to rise up again.

Fate chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. "That... depends. On how many other strands their threads may touch. I don't think it will be many, or I would have been called on to arrange their fates myself. It's normally an automatic process," she explained at his puzzled look. "Rather like your own duties. You are only called on to take the souls of those who are neither good nor evil, that Heaven and Hell cannot call themselves. So, too, does Fate work. I interfere only when a person is destined to do great things."

Zane was interested. "You mean, you make heroes?"

She nodded. "And villains. Anyone who truly _changes_ something falls under my jurisdiction, whether it is the world they change, or only a small part of it."

Zane dropped his gaze to the grass as he filed that information away with everything else he'd learned since preventing his own suicide by killing the previous Death with the bullet he'd intended for himself. "Still, though," he said after a moment, "I can't help but worry."

The woman frowned. "If you'd like, I could check my loom," she offered.

Zane's head came up. "Oh, would you?" he said hopefully. "It would let me breathe much easier."

Fate nodded amiably, and took the strand of spider web between her hands and began weaving it around her fingers. In less than a minute, the single strand became a thin, gauzy sheet that gave off multi-colored shimmers in the bright sunlight.

"Alright, then," she stated, spreading the silk out on her palms. The Incarnation bent over it, and Zane watched in fascination as her eyes glazed over.

"There are the threads," she murmured mistily a minute later. "The man will be killed in a month anyway, victim of a hit and run, final destination unknown. The woman will divorce her adulterous husband and remarry, but will bear no children." She shook her head slightly, her eyes clearing. "And so you see, nothing has truly changed. One will die anyway, most likely no longer in need of your services, and the other will affect the lives of few."

He closed his eyes with a feeling of relief. No one had been hurt, this time...

Zane's eyes popped open again. This time. But what about next time?

He turned to the older Incarnation to ask her about what might happen if he couldn't help himself again, and saved someone instead of killing them, just in time to hear her gasp and her face go pale. Fate's eyes searched the silk screen, flickering almost wildly over the cloth. "What is it?" he hardly dared to ask, hoping against hope that it had nothing to do with his actions.

The woman studied the silk for a few seconds more. "There is a new thread in the weave," she said at last. "One that has no beginning, that simply _is_. It wanders across the cloth, unguided, uncontrolled, and touches the threads of both mortal and Immortal alike."

Zane sat there, frozen. "Er..."

Fate glanced up at him. "No, it was nothing you did. Nor was it of my doing." With an abrupt motion, she rose, folding the silk and placing it in a pocket before brushing off her skirt. "It may be another's, though, and so we must be wary."

"Whose doing?" Zane couldn't help but ask, following her to his feet.

She shook her head sharply. "No. To speak his name is to draw his attention to ourselves." The woman fingered the spider silk in her pocket. "Nevertheless, we must see what has occurred. Have you visited Death's mansion as of yet?"

The Incarnation blinked. "I was unaware I had one."

Fate smiled thinly. "Well, then, since the thread's owner is currently there, I think we'd best pay a visit, don't you?"

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(1) Up until this point, all dialogue was taken directly from _On a Pale Horse_, though the rest of the stuff was a rewrite. Now I'm on my own…

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A/N: leaps for joy Yes! It's done! Four weeks of staring at a blank screen has finally borne fruit! 

blushes Erm, right. Sorry it took so long… I blame trying to figure out how to write in a completely new genre. Not to mention I only just realized how _awkward_ Anthony's writing is in this particular novel… hence the rewriting.

Oh, and there should be a little bit of Harry in the next chapter. Not really sure what's going to be where, since this chapter turned out longer than I thought it would be… (Yes, I was going to try super-short chapters, but my muses rebelled.)

_Our thanks to_ **bellashade** (Falling… grimaces Pretty much, yeah… And if you can believe it, there're actually stories I'm _not_ posting, because I still need to research them, etc…), **borne-shadow-childe**, **crazy-lil-nae-nae**, **E.A.V.** ( grins Thanks! I've always loved the AUs, etc. that only changed one little thing from canon, then let the story go where it would.), **Fate** (puts on her halo When did I ever say I was fair...?), **GinnyHarryP**, **Lady Selenity** ( laughs By all means, continue on…), **LassyD** ( sniffles You're quitting fanfiction? How horrible! I'll miss you…), **Mithros** ( nods Yep. Er, to the second question. Though, kinda but not really to the first one, too… Fear the confusion!), **none**, **OOMaxwellDemonOo** ( chuckles ), **Quillian**, **Shade Dancer** ( shakes her head sadly Those foolish Gryffindors…), **Timra**, **Valkyrie**** Nienna Helyanwe** ( grins Yes, a fellow Sirry-fan! Don't worry, I've been meaning to write a Sirry fic for a while now, and decided on this one. Can't imagine it _not_ being Sirry, now…), and **Wren Truesong** (I hope so…) _for reviewing_.

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**21 April 2005**


	3. Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

**Warnings and Disclaimers:** A few quotes from the book. I dedicate this one to **Alara**** Moonrunner**, since she's the one who applied the necessary brownies for me to get this out…

* * *

Zane nodded, bemused. "I... suppose we should, then. Where is it located?"

The other Immortal smiled at him, the fine lines in the corners of her eyes creasing. "Why, in Purgatory, of course!"

Zane frowned, suddenly remembering a conversation. "Chronos said that I might ride my horse there, but not how I might go about the journey."

To his surprise, Fate chuckled at this, despite the worry in her eyes. "Thanatos, we are already_ in_ Purgatory." She pointed across the vast, green field. "That building there is Purgatory proper, where you must eventually go to register those souls you can not balance."

The man looked in that direction, and saw a large, university-like building off in the distance. "Now, why didn't I notice that before?" he murmured to himself, then shook his head. "So, that's Purgatory?"

"What did you expect, a medieval dungeon? We'd never get anything done if that were the case. Immortals must move along with the times just like everybody else." Fate moved towards Mortis, who obligingly began to trot over to them. "Now, come along. I imagine your staff must be annoyed by the disruption."

He wasn't sure which was stranger, as he climbed onto Mortis' back in front of the other Immortal. That such odd things kept happening to him...

Or that he was starting to take them in stride.

Astride the gallant Deathsteed, it was but the ride of a few moments before they came to a stop in front of... a funeral home. A rather nice funeral home, fronted by Romanesque marble columns, and Zane supposed that since he was Death, it made sense, but_ still_.

A _funeral home_?

"Am I permitted to redecorate?" he inquired hopefully of the woman in front of him.

He couldn't see her expression, but he suspected that she was suppressing a smile as she answered. "I don't see why you wouldn't be, but I'd suggest settling into your duties before devoting your attention to other things."

Zane felt his face redden. "Of course."

Mortis came to a stop not far from the marble path. To Zane's surprise there was a mailbox with DEATH painted in large letters on the side. Who would write to Death? He dismounted and helped Fate off the pale house, before walking over and opening the lid.

There were four letters waiting inside. When he turned them over he found they were return addressed to Earth.

"Come on, Thanatos, let's not dawdle," Fate chided, already standing by the front door of the mortuary. Zane hurried to join her. Then he paused, caught in a conundrum. It was his home now, but he'd never been there before. Should he knock?

The other Incarnation took the choice away from him, leaning forward to press the bell. A deep gong rang inside, sounding like the toll of doom, and Zane couldn't help his little jump of surprise. A few moments later the door opened, and a black-suited butler stood in the doorway.

"So good to see you again, sir," the butler said, his voice genial but lacking any indication of what his thoughts were. "Let me take your cloak."

Feeling more than a bit awkward, Zane let him remove the cloak and hang it in a nearby closet. "I- I've changed," he told him. "I'm not the same man."

The servant nodded. "Of course, sir. We serve the office, not the man." He turned to Fate. "Your stole, madam?"

She unwrapped a thin silken stole Zane was fairly sure she hadn't been wearing before from around her shoulders. The butler took it and set it next to Zane's cloak, then removed slippers and a black bathrobe from the confines of the closet. "If you will put these on, sir?"

He donned the garments over the clothes he had tried to kill himself in; God, had that really only been a few short hours ago? So much had changed... Now that he was no longer wearing Death's cloak, Zane could smell something strange in the air. "What is that odor?" he asked, rubbing at his nose.

"That is myrrh, sir," the butler replied. "This mansion is scented with it traditionally."

"The House of Death has to be scented?" Zane muttered, bemused. The sensation in his nostrils was beginning to change; where before it had only been unusual, now it was undoubtedly starting to burn.

"Myrrh is associated with the office, sir."

The butler and Fate both jumped as the new Immortal sneezed. "Traditional or not, I think I might be allergic," he said through the hand he was covering his mouth with.

The butler nodded, for the first time showing an overt emotion. "...I see, sir," he said, consternated. "I'll have the mansion aired out immediately." The man turned to hurry out, only to be stopped by Fate's command.

"Wait! Tell us, have there been any unusual occurrences, this last hour?" Her middle-aged figure suddenly seemed to gain an imposing authority.

The servant gathered himself together. "Indeed, madam. You have a visitor, sir," he said, turning to Zane.

Zane blinked, his attention drawn from trying to prevent another sneeze. "Oh? Who is it?"

"I don't know, sir." At the startled looks he received from the two Immortals, the butler elaborated. "He was unconscious when he arrived, sir. I had him placed in a guest bedroom so you could decide how to deal with him. Were my actions incorrect?"

"No, no, of course they weren't," Zane hastily told him. The last thing he wanted to do was antagonize his servants. He'd never had any before, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be a good thing for him if they were unhappy. "Er, what's your name?"

"Henry, sir."

"Henry, could you take us to see this visitor, then? Oh, and while the mansion is being aired, have someone change that awful doorbell," Zane added as the thought struck him. "Having pride in my office is all well and good, but there's no need to be morbid about the whole affair."

Fate regarded him with a mixture of amusement and approval as the butler nodded and stepped away to confer for a moment with a newly-arrived maid. "See now? You're already settling in. You just need to find your niche."

Zane gave her a grateful smile, and then sneezed once again.

Preferably, it was a niche without need for myrrh.

-

The bedroom Henry led them to was richly furnished, filled with age-worn oaken antiques. Zane's slippers sank deep into the pale plush carpet, and he had to step quickly to keep it from eating them totally. The bed itself was just as impressive; it was enormous, and looked like it belonged in some Victorian castle, with its four carved posts and dark red brocade hangings.

The figure lying in it was dwarfed by its size, but as Zane drew closer he realized that wasn't entirely the bed's fault. His mysterious visitor was a scrawny boy in black robes who couldn't be more than fourteen or fifteen. His hair was the same color as his bizarre clothing, and went all over the place. "_This_ is the person who's rearranging all your threads?" he asked Fate, more than a little incredulously. "He's a child!"

"I can see that." His fellow Immortal bent over the boy, her hand reaching out to brush hair away from his face. "But he's also a wild card, regardless of age. And big things are made up of little ones. He might be just the thing to tip the scales."

Zane frowned. "The scales? What scales?"

Fate returned the frown, the lines at the corners of her eyes creasing. "I've already told you I can't say anything more. Do stop asking." Sighing, she straightened up. "Well, important or not, he certainly won't be waking up any time soon. I'd best be about my business, and you as well. I'm sure you have clients accumulating Earth-side."

Zane started. "Why, yes, I suppose I should. Would... would you like me to contact you when he wakes?"

She airily waved a hand. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'll probably know before you do. Now, be a nice, polite young man and see me out."

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A/N: Not much to say here, except that this is the chapter length intended for this story, so don't complain about it. Next chapter, we're back to the HP world for a bit.

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_Our most sincere gratitude to _**Alara**** Moonrunner**, **Amaris**** Kincaid**, **Andromeda Snape-Malfoy**, **bellashade**, **damien**, **Fate**, **Firehedgehog**, **IritIlan**, **jollander**, **Lady Dark**, **Mithros**, **Selena**, **Shade Dancer** (hugs), **snowlight144**, **Von**, _and_ **Wren Truesong** (Hey, they said the Veil led to Death…) _for reviewing_.

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17 October 2005


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